Community is What You Make It I have been very reflective lately – this is such a busy time with Christmas and a recent tragedy on my mind. (Sorry, I’m not ready to discuss it here yet.) In times like this you rely on people close to you to celebrate and also process tough experiences. We have lived in our neighborhood for 7 years and for some reason, it has been incredibly difficult to meet people. Most people on our quiet street are, well, quiet and are not out that much. If they are out it always seems to be on off times from when we are out. The people we have met have been nice, but we have not formed any close friendships – something that has been frustrating to me for a long time. But look at the title of this post – community is what you make it and well, I just didn’t realize how important that was for me here in my quiet corner of the world and for a friend I recently said good bye to. For me – being with family and getting to know the people that are close are very important to me, but I have not made the effort probably in both camps to really foster the community I’ve been craving. My friend, on the other hand, made her mark, built her community and at her memorial a diverse group of people paid their respects. It was something to see and something I will never forget. My 5 year old daughter, Kayla, said last week, “Mommy, Daddy, I want to give a candy cane to everyone on our street for Christmas.” Brilliant! Jerry secured the candy canes and a few days later Kayla and I spent 1 hour and 15 minutes handing out candy canes. We met nearly every one of our neighbors. I can’t believe that she figured out how to solve this 7 year problem I’ve had with such a simple gesture. I believe this is the start of something big – a tradition – a means of reaching out. I’m not really sure what yet. All I know is that I’m in awe of this sweet girl and the impact she is having on me and my idea of what community is. So as the holiday season is ending, keep that sense of community and common goals and purpose alive with your neighbors, friends, and family. Reach out, pay attention, find ways to care and communicate. It could be the start of something big for you also.

Purpose It has been exceptionally windy and cold the last few days – even unusual for our area. One day I was looking out the window watching the trees and snow blow to and fro and my eyes caught a leaf. Now seeing a leaf in December means a brown, crinkled, sad excuse for a piece of vegetation. This leaf had definitely seen better days. But what caught my eye was how it was blowing – in a circle – round and round and up and down. This seemed to go on for minutes – longer than you would expect for something like this. It was as if it was trying to tell me something as I quietly watched and pondered. And then it finally struck me – this leaf was living out its last purpose - to blow around and around and go on its way to most likely, its final destination. And it was as if it was actually enjoying the journey. How simple is that lesson for us? For many years I moved so fast – I multi tasked in the car (not while driving), I felt as though I had to read a certain number of books and do certain activities even while on vacation. I rarely sat down to watch a movie without doing needlepoint or folding laundry or some other task at the same time. I was at a breakneck pace and not going anywhere. I don’t remember where it all changed for me – I know it was definitely a process – a slow one. Ironically at my busiest time, which I believe to be now, I actually make an effort to relax more now than ever before. I’m really starting to enjoy this journey – I’m working hard at seeing the world through my children’s eyes – listening to the creative stories of my 5 year old, the wacky humor of my (almost) 3 year old, the sweet innocence of my 1 year old. I’m no longer moving so fast, I’m no longer striving for treasures that have no value in heaven, I’m no longer stressing about the state of my house (OK, annoyed at times, but definitely not stressed). I’m starting to see that the purpose for which God created for me is what I’m finally starting to live – and it feels so good, so right, and so peaceful at the core of my being. I have more work to do, that is for sure and I will never be perfect, but I’m so thankful that I’ve opened my heart to this possibility – to be the woman that God created me to be.

Winter Wonderland Our first big snow came down last night. I’m not a big fan of winter really, but I love the first snow fall as it always seems to coat everything perfectly in a sparkling white blanket. I marvel at each covered bush, tree, and field. It seems as if I’m in a different world. I also love the soft glow of Christmas lights under the snow. I’m looking out there loving the snow – something that isn’t always true for me. But I’m sure another day will come in the near future where I won’t love the snow. The days will seem darker, the snow – harsher. I’ll look outside and groan and wish for it all to be gone. It’s interesting that the same exact phenomenon can occur and we can react so differently to it. But maybe I won’t do that…maybe I won’t groan. And the only reason that can happen is that somehow I change on the inside. Isn’t that how life is anyway? Things happen and we are tempted to react, to become emotional, to let our feelings rule our lives. But do we really need to do that? James 1:2-3 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” Pure joy during trials? Well, that is not an emotional response – it is a faith response. So wherever you are and whatever you are going through, look out your front window and choose a faith response today.

Love Washes Over Me The last couple of weeks have been out of the norm for us. Our daycare is closed temporarily necessitating either Jerry or I to be home with the kids. It has been two years since I have been able to be home with all of the kids for whole days at a time on a regular basis. While this time together has not been 100% easy, I’m very thankful to have it and to relearn who these awesome little people are in my life. So many of my friends and relatives have been sharing their words of gratitude for their families and their situations (even if not ideal) the last couple of days. It has really got me thinking about where I am in the chaos of this time where I’m half at home and half at work and the brilliance of God’s divine wisdom for us. It makes me think of my youngest sister – tiny-less-than-two-weeks-old-baby in her arms – working through these first two survival weeks and yet she is thankful for all stages of parenting. And I remember that stage – just a year ago – so fresh in my mind. The bone crushing fatigue, the irrational moments of truly believing that I cannot go on, the crying, the endless diapers, the questioning of my own sanity. It’s as fresh in my mind as a raw wound and my heart aches. I think of my older children – of sleepless nights, of them puking, bleeding, spitting, and smearing snot on me. I think of those absolutely heart wrenching and heart breaking moments and I am in awe of where I am. In the early days of being a new mom, I remember being angry – not at my child, but at how different things were and how I just couldn’t get a handle on all these changes and constant, new experiences every moment – everyday. It was hard to deal with that anger, but I knew I had to let it go. I think to an exceptionally bad night with my youngest and I remember saying to her as she was screaming and crying, “I don’t care what it takes, but I will not leave you alone tonight – if that means being up all night.” When I felt that I was at the lowest point I could be, an overwhelming wave of love engulfed me and I held on to her tightly. And even though I felt as if every bone in my body would break, I held her nearly all night. As I remember that night, I’m so thankful for how far I have come. This inexplicable love that came over me that night (and countless other times in this journey of parenthood) is nothing that I could manufacture or conjure up or borrow – it was, and still is divine. It has occurred to me many times that this is just but a small glimpse of God’s love for us. How overwhelming it must be for Him to watch us even in our lowest and most flawed states and still feel that intense and never ending love for us. I’m thankful that God has given me this divine love for my children. I pray that you find that quiet moment in your own parenting chaos to welcome His love for you and pass it on to your little ones.

It’s a Different Kind of Warmth This time of year in the upper Midwest we usually welcome the first real snow fall. This is the one that makes a serious effort to fill the sky and attempt, sometimes successfully, to actually cover the ground. Today was that day. As I watched the clumps of fluffy flakes fall, I thought about how cold - on a day like today - makes you want to be warm. It’s a different kind of warmth, though. Not the same kind you welcome on a sunny, summer day. Not the kind that warms your face just enough in the spring, but warmth that you welcome and seek out by what you do. We light a wood burning fire to feel the warmth and smell the smoky wood and hear the crackling pops. We make coffee to feel the warmth in our hands and the sensation of it slowly inching down our throats until we feel it spread throughout our bodies. It’s the warm, thick potato cheese soup that you eat faster and faster until you burn your tongue and suddenly it’s as if your whole body is suddenly on fire and you start to sweat a little bit. It’s the warmth of a single jar candle that has been burning all day. The temperature on the thermostat may be no different, but I’m convinced that candle – maybe just the smell of it – has warmed the house. It’s the warmth of family and friends, close to us – maybe physically close or close in our hearts. It’s this thing we do – we seek warmth, but it’s a different kind. So those of you who don’t like winter (and trust me I can identify) because of the cold, snow, and dark days – take a break from what you see and light a candle, a fire, put on a snuggly blanket, hug your children, snuggle with your spouse and focus on the warmth that you feel – close your eyes – shut out the darkness and choose this different kind of warmth. It will warm and light up your heart.

Three Jewels

I stare at my right hand, ring finger at the 3 little jewels in this band of gold. You can catch me doing this every once in awhile – studying the stones. I love jewelry like any other woman does, but this isn’t why I’m staring…why I’m taking in the colors, the shimmer, the uniqueness of each stone. No, these stones represent my children – this is my mother’s ring. Jerry insisted that I get this ring and of course, I’m all for new jewelry so I agreed. When it came in, I almost didn’t like it – sad but true. The stones didn’t fit together, the white gold made my finger look pasty, I couldn’t get used to the order I had chosen for the stones. I didn’t know what finger to wear it on…blah, blah, blah. (You are probably starting to understand that I’m picky and almost OCD about certain things.) After a few months of wearing it, I decided that the emerald just didn’t look right in the setting – it seemed off center. The jeweler agreed and 4 weeks later (after having to replace the emerald 2 times) I ended up with a ring that fit better, looked better, and actually was worth more. This emerald was now a natural emerald instead of lab created – and it sparkled.

And so I stared more intently…I was in awe of how different the ring was – but was it really? Or was I different? These lifeless stones now meant something to me. Each stone representing a child – so precious, unique and irreplaceable.

A deep emerald with inclusions that months after wearing it – I still discover something new. The emerald is my Kayla – and isn’t that true of her? There are layers to this child that I never stop discovering. She makes me laugh, cry, and just love her more because of the unique, intense little girl that she is.

Amethyst for Zach – my zany one. All boy – loud, fast, and multifaceted. He runs laps one second and then climbs in my arms, kissing me and saying he loves me the next. So what I need.

Citrine for Abby – shiny and bright – this stone stands out from the rest. Not because she is better than the other kids, but because she was the gift I didn’t know I needed in my life. Her laugh is contagious, boisterous and I’ll never forget the complete surprise I felt the first time I heard it. She may be little, but she always makes sure her voice is heard.

These 3 little jewels in this twisted metal – tarnished and scratched – gleaming, sparkling, always catching my eye. Reminding me that the gift of these children God gave me not once, not twice, but three times. I am in awe that he would choose me to parent these children.

Oh - I mess up, I yell, I’m impatient, I will never be perfect – yet God still chose me for them. So I keep looking and marveling over these wonderful gifts. And as I admire I thank you, Father for choosing me.

Traditions With the holidays right around the corner, this time of year is ripe with traditions of all kinds. While there are the “biggies” – the turkey at Thanksgiving and the tree for Christmas, there are many small traditions this time of year that just warm my heart. Even though we are in a large metro area, the town next to us has a small town feel to it with a park in the city center. Every year they put up a lit Menorah, lights on the big pine tree, play Christmas music, and put up a near life size nativity set. What is so great about this nativity set is that they have a set of wise men that travel through the park to see baby Jesus. The set went up yesterday and as they are every year, the wise men are set far back in the park away from the nativity set. Every week or so they travel to see the baby Jesus. Our kids love this – we drive past the park every few days to see if the “wise guys” have moved. This is such a simple thing that me makes me happy deep inside.

Some other simple traditions we love:

• Enjoying a warm, wood burning fire and watching the parade on Thanksgiving day. That last few years it has snowed the day before Thanksgiving. There is nothing like coming inside from the cold to the warmth of family and friends in front of a fire.
• Cutting down our Christmas tree on a farm. We always do this the first weekend in December. Some years it has been sunny and 40 degrees. One year it was 20 degrees and a blizzard. We take the kids and they help pick the tree. One year, Kayla ate icicles the whole time.
• Eating the largest cheese pizza we can find as our Christmas Eve dinner with wine of course. The last few years we’ve had a 24 inch pizza that barely fits on the table. The local pizza place we go to knows us and our tradition which for some reason makes it more special.
• Arranging a snack and cookie fest on either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. This tradition has evolved over the years. It started at my parent’s house where we would cook appetizers and cookies and load up the table. We went to church on Christmas Eve and then we came back and ate and opened presents and stayed up until obnoxious hours of the morning. Nowadays we usually hold the feast on Christmas Day in the afternoon where Jerry’s family (and whoever else is in town from my family) comes over and we graze all day.

What simple traditions are you looking forward to this season?

One Year Ago One year ago, I was a mama in waiting – waiting the birth of our third child – Abigail Anne. I was tired and frustrated and my heart – oh my heart, was not right. I complained. I was large and slow moving (as you other mamas know about this stage). I would sweat on relatively cool days. I was on a strict diet, frustrated by work and generally just ready for it all to be over. But something started to change at this time – my heart began to soften. Thanksgiving was less than two weeks away – a holiday that was relatively quiet to me growing up had really become one of my favorites as an adult. We started hosting Thanksgiving almost by accident when we first moved into our house. Something about a house full of people, warm and cozy with delicious food was really appealing to me. But not that Thanksgiving – we could not host it because we did not know when Abby would be born. Several months before when we found out we were pregnant with Abby – I remember being shocked and then humbled by God’s plan for us. We weren’t sure about having a 3rd child, but in my heart, I wanted Kayla to have a sister. God intervened and there we were. But my heart wasn’t open. I complained, I was in disbelief. I was happy, but tired from being either pregnant or nursing for the previous two years before. I grumbled, I was discontent. About 10 weeks before Abby was due, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes – my frustration turned to anger. “Why? This shouldn’t be happening”, was all I could think. But then there was Thanksgiving…that quiet day with no extended family – just the 4 of us. We cooked, we napped, we ate…and I began to reflect. I read my pregnancy journal that night. I was shocked at how grumpy I had been all those months. I looked at Jerry and said, “Wow, I really just complained this whole pregnancy.” He looked at me and said, “Yes, you did.” I put the journal away, filled with heaviness. “Forgive me, Father”, I whispered. “Who am I to be discontent with this wonderful gift?” I started shaking almost immediately – the first contraction came minutes later. Two and half hours later, Abby was born – the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. One year ago, gratitude and grace changed me. I’m so thankful for that quiet Thanksgiving, for this sweet, almost 1 year old baby girl, for God who was so bold to give me what I didn’t know I needed to have. It’s never too late – never too late to let His grace wash over you and change you. Move your heart to gratitude these next couple of weeks. Stop the complaining and begin thanking him for something even as simple as the sunshine or the warm coffee in your hand. The softening of your heart will change you forever.

Four Months I know - it really has been four months since I've blogged - maybe none of you are left and I completely understand. Maybe you will come around again or maybe I will pop up in your reader and maybe, just maybe, you will trust that I will write again - frequently...or at least periodically. Explaining my silence may seem odd, so instead of trying to explain, I will just give you the update. And since we are old friends, you will forgive me for the silence and be happy to catch up and we will all happily move on. I'm expecting Baby Powell v3.0 on November 28th. She is a girl and quite an active little one. Kayla is excited to share her room (she doesn't know what she signed up for!) and as my belly grows Zachary just seems to have a knowing way about him. I point at my belly and say, "Baby." He hugs and takes care of one of Kayla's dolls which is encouraging (except for the day he threw her across the room). I am still in awe of God's plan for this baby. After I had Zachary I remember saying to God, "you are really going to have to talk me into having another baby." When the pregnancy test registered that little plus sign (a week after a false negative result), my jaw dropped and I covered my mouth and the tears started. Jerry's knowing smile made me realize that this was for real and this is exactly what we were meant to do. Our baby's name (will publish here after she is born) means "the grace and joy of my Father." I believe that God in his joy has given us this little girl. I'm excited to see what she will be like. Thanks for reading.

The Calm After the Storm I have to confess - I love big events - weddings, graduations, baby showers, and any kind of big party you can imagine. I love the planning, the coordination, the gifts, the outfits, the mental planning, the build up, and the event itself. I love doing something different and "once in a lifetime" every once in awhile. What is hard to deal with is the calm after the storm. I can't help but be a little sad once it is all over - even if the event was not centered around me - even if I was just someone in attendance. It seems that all of that planning should yield a bigger return. It is as if the event should live on just a little bit longer - a little piece each day until it fades away. I have recently discovered that Kayla is the same way. Of course at 3 1/2 she can just cry those sad feelings away. I on the other hand can't get away with that. Furthermore, I need to help her stay up, help her cheer up, help her look to the next, fun thing. There are always memories and pictures and new, fun clothes to wear again, but somehow things aren't the same in this eerie calm. Over the years I've learned how to live in the moment a little bit more, but the only way to get through this deafening calm is to look forward. Or maybe it is simpler than that - I can lose myself in the daily joys around me - Zachary's toothy grin, Kayla's infectious laugh, Jerry's icy blue eyes. Yes, that is where I can live - in the calm before the next storm.

Divine Peace Peace - everyone talks about it - few know how to practice it - including whole nations. So many of us are seeking this peace - peace and quiet, peaceful sleep, peace at home, peace at work. How do we get that peace? Where do we search, what method do we use to achieve peace in this mile-a-minute life? I feel most peaceful when I'm listening to music - mostly Christian music, but not always. A song moves me as waves of music wash over my soul. This is the only way to describe it. It is typically not singing that affects me, but a guitar rhythm usually - a sound that speaks to my spirit directly - almost transcending thought. I can't help but close my eyes and move to the music embracing that divine peace. As a whole we don't take time to be still, to meditate on what God has done for us - to listen to his voice. Find your space, your time, your music to allow God to speak to you in a supernatural way.

Still Awake I'm still awake tonight...as I am many nights about this time. It seems that the normal times that others subscribe to do not fit my lifestyle - or maybe there is something else going on. I have small children as many of you know and when they are finally at peace and asleep I feel as though I can have that bit of fun in the evening that is impossible to do when they are awake. The dilemma is that I lose track of time or just frankly ignore it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm an obnoxious night owl - to the irrational degree. Only because I think I can get away with it - until morning when the first kid wakes up. I guess I could rationalize that I don't want to be one of those people who has literally "slept half of their life away." But maybe I'm just doing too good of a job here. If I figured out on average how many hours of sleep I get a night since the kids were born it would probably be about 5 hours a night. I'm amazed at times that I can still function, but apparently I've adapted. Bottom line, I'm still awake tonight and I don't know how much longer it will be. Anyone out there identify?

More Than Enough I think it is human nature to go through periods of perceived inadequacy. Maybe there is always a sense of that in your life at all times. Maybe the situations or events change, but there is that element of disconcerting instability - the question that lingers in the background, "do they know that I have no idea what I'm doing?" I seem to get on the merry-go-round of inadequacy that rotates every few days. It usually starts with a bad encounter with one of the kids making me doubt if I am a good mother. Next, something happens at work to make me question why I am in the position I'm in. Lastly it just becomes almost dumb luck - I can't seem to do the dishes without breaking things. The dinner I'm attempting just doesn't quite turn out right. (Side note - I'll never forget the dinner I made that Kayla took one look at and started crying. It is funny to think of that now!) A line in a song reminds me that this doubt, fear, anxiety about the roles we play in life are all lies. "We are who we are and it's more than enough." Let me say it again, "more than enough." We've been equipped by God for these relationships and roles that we play and he has provided us with more than enough to be successful as long as we rely on him for all things. It reminds me that I daily have to take the burdens off my back and virtually hand them to God or I can't make it. Before you sleep tonight, make a list of the burdens that plague your mind in one column. In the other column dare to spell out what God says about those burdens. Spend time in prayer handing those things to God. God's peace is waiting - don't put it off.

A Simple Revelation I fancy myself a baker. I love to bake just about anything, but I love and adore baking (and eating) cookies of all kinds. My favorite is classic chocolate chip cookies. My ccc's are slightly crispy and chewy but never crunchy or hard. I have a few secret techniques I use (passed down from my Mom) and have been making said cookies since I can remember. My basic recipe is from the Toll House morsel package (plus the secret techniques I just mentioned). I was reviewing the usual list of ingredients and steps when it dawned on me that I have never - I mean not even once - cooked these cookies at the right temperature. I have always cooked them at 350 degrees and the recipe calls for 375 degrees. I was pretty floored by this simple revelation. How could I have done it wrong the whole time? Have I ever used the right temperature? I don't really know, but I do know that I have never seen the numbers 375 jump off the page as they did today. I couldn't help but take this revelation further - how many other things do I think I know and believe, but don't really have it right? Have I really done the homework I should to ensure that I have all the facts and am making decisions based on those facts? I've been smacked with the constant search and review of the facts the last few weeks. Just when I think I know what is going on with a given situation and maybe have even reacted badly (in my mind, thankfully not towards other people involved) I realized that I needed to review the situation further, check all my bases, make sure the temperature was correct and set it accordingly. Thank God I've done this - life could be much harder than it is right now if I had not. The next time you think you know and have evaluated a situation, ask yourself - do I really know the facts? Have I analyzed this from every angle? Take the time to check into things further - you may be surprised by the simple or even the complex revelation you encounter.

Streams of Consciousness Today was one of those days when the thought processes were so random, they were worth capturing to reflect on the past, present, and future and those burning questions of life. Random Thought #1 - Have you ever had a memory repeat over and over in your head - but one so random and common and meaningless? I keep pondering that there must be a reason - a purpose for revisiting that time, but part of me is afraid to go there. What great mysteries of life am I supposed to learn? Random Thought #2 - Surely there must be a way to stop the time, space continuum so I really can get the laundry, dishes, and prep for the next day complete all while reading a book, crosstiching, Facebooking, and scrap booking. If anyone has found this wrinkle in time, please let me know. Until then, I will continue to hope and believe and go to bed at 1:30am. Random Thought #3 - If I'm not supposed to value material things in this life, why is it so darn hard to pack it all up, contact the charity and get it out the door? Yet, when that process is started (not even completed!) life feels so new and fresh. I hope to live up to this ideal of simplifying and cutting back the clutter that distracts me. Random Thought #4 - If these baby and toddler years are times that I should cherish, why am I too tired to record the happenings of these times? It would be nice to remember coming home to a house of dancing and singing kids and readily joining in to shake the stress of the day. But will I remember that in 5 years? Or will it only be an impression, a tiny, positive murmur in my mind? That seems so sad - to not fully capture a memory like that. Yet, what is the best way? Random Thought #5 - If this is a place for me to capture my ponderings...why do I spend so little time here? Do I fail to ponder or are my ponderings buried under the daily grind? I suppose it is a choice to embrace and reflect or let it slip away. So maybe I had a theme here - sort of. My random thoughts all point to getting back to basics, to simplifying life, embracing memories past and present, living for today, and reflecting on the gifts of life. From here on, I will embrace and reflect more and hopefully make it worth your while to visit my little corner of cyberspace.

Unconditional This post has been rolling around in my head for at least a week and I fear is one of the more difficult things for me to write about. I'm sure we all aspire to love those around us with no strings attached, but rarely succeed. What does it mean to truly love another person unconditionally? I think of Kayla and Zachary when I think about how I learned about love. I think of them so tiny and helpless - relying on me for everything and especially in those early months - relying on me as the food source. Breastfeeding both kids was a challenge, but one I'm glad that I accepted and carried through. I remember rocking Kayla to sleep one night when it just hit me like a ton of bricks how much I loved her and how I would do anything for her - radical, scary, illegal things to protect her and hold her close to me. I also remember the day I realized that all of this nurturing and caring for her was ever slowly preparing her to leave me. That thought was almost too much to bear. I'm thankful that she is still a little girl and I don't have to consider that possibility in the short term. My love for Kayla was so strong I could not figure out how I could love another child and yet when Zachary was born I was overwhelmed with devotion to this little boy. He was a calm little guy who cooed in his sleep. He smiled for the first time when he was only 10 days old - on Valentine's Day of all days. There were always challenges along the way and as you know - that euphoria of love is not always present. As they both have grown, the everyday gets in the way of this pure devotion. I find myself irritated, annoyed, I roll my eyes, I get angry, I yell, avoid, and otherwise behave badly. Guilt sets in...I ponder if I have permanently damaged my relationship with them. The next day dawns and Zachary's smile lights up my world. Kayla tells me she loves me. I realize that the core element to this love - this incomprehensible gift of unconditional love - is forgiveness. Always starting over, always giving the benefit of the doubt, always doing the right thing without keeping record of wrongs. I'm humbled that God chose me to be a mother to such wonderful children. And I realize that this overwhelming, heart-stopping, breathtaking love is only a tiny glimpse of how God feels about me, his child.

Add to the Beauty Yes...this is the title of another song by Sara Groves (I'm definitely stuck on her these days). I would say this is the last in my series of posts on songs, but I'm sure I'll sneak some others in at a later time. When it seems life is dull, dark and otherwise dim, I am often surprised at the beauty that suddenly surrounds me when I look outside. This week has been a complete disaster rife with late nights at work, cranky kids, and more work until the wee hours. Now that it is Friday I just felt like a kid about to to go on summer vacation leaving work today (earlier than I have in probably the last month). (Side note: I'm not sure how I could consider summer vacation today considering the fact that the average temperature today was about 20 degrees and there is about 2 feet of snow on the ground and has been for the past 3 weeks or so, but I digress.) As I entered the rat race (aka I-275 South) I looked to the west and 1. was surprised that it was still light at 5:30pm in January and 2. squinted from the hazy colors in my view. Could it be - the sun??? Yes, indeed - one of the most gorgeous sunsets I've experienced in a long time. Orange, yellow, and red watercolors swirling around that fiery ball. "Whew hew!" is all I could think. In the midst of all of the chaos this week I've been pondering what I'm adding to eternity...to the legacy of this physical experience of living. In the words of the song that inspired this post - "I want to add to the beauty, to tell a better story... I want to shine with the light, that's burning up inside." That light that brightened my afternoon - a gift from God - reminds me that the light we hold inside is what lasts through these dark days. "It comes in small inspirations It brings redemption to life and work To our lives and our work It comes in loving community It comes in helping a soul find it's worth. Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces, calling out the best of who we are." That idea of redemption of our lives and work - thank God for that! I need redemption everywhere these days and here is where I ask you...what is the best of who you are? The best of who you are is the way you love, care, nurture, hold, honor, respect, serve, and pray for people. But most of all - it is the beauty of your true self that seeks to love others at all costs and in all circumstances. "We come with beautiful secrets We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls We come to every new morning With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold" Hold onto the beauty my friends - He is holding onto you.

Unbalanced That is the best word to describe my life right now and it is darn painful. The stress of learning this new position at work - attempting to find the rhythm and balance between work and home, the different schedule, understanding the authority and commitment to my two lives - it is excruciating. When I'm at work, it's like I don't have any other life. I guess that is how my mind chooses to compartmentalize it. I focus on the needs of my team - I'm always thinking to myself - am I serving them the best way possible? Am I ensuring that someday they will be independent and I'm there to run interference only? That is definitely the goal. The everyday annoyances get in my way - email that doesn't quit, meetings for hours and hours, nitpicking and infighting - or maybe just misunderstandings. I feel joy at their successes, I feel pain when they fail. It is as if they are my children away from home (although they are not child-like in anyway). I care for them and want them to be independent and confident. Home is always a mix of schedules that don't seem to fall where they should, overtired children, overflowing baskets of laundry and counter tops full of dishes. (Did I mention perpetual crumbs on the floor?) The changes are taking a toll - Jerry is tired and at his wits end at the end of the day (I felt that way almost everyday I spent at home with the kids also). He has taken on more than his share of the work and he does not complain - almost to the point that I can feel his pain without him even telling me. I break down, we clear the air. I recommit to my side of the work at whatever cost to keep the balance that we need. It reminds me of another favorite song (and you thought I had veered away from my song theme, eh?) Sara Groves again - "When it Was Over" from the "Add to the Beauty" CD. In this song it is a hidden line buried in a verse that touches me to the core - "There is a hope that whispers a vow, a promise to stay while we're working it out." I'm so grateful that Jerry whispered that vow - that he has promised to stay while I'm working this out. I would never have expected anything less, but I needed that confirmation in the middle of my breakdown. But isn't that how life is anyway? We are always trying to work things out - our lives are always a piece of artwork in progress. We don't really understand what the medium is we are using or what the colors are, but maybe we get a glimpse of that pure love or purpose that God has given us in the hug of a friend, the sincerity of a compliment, the discussion of the spiritual realm. The song's main chorus - "Love wash over a multitude of things, make us whole" reminds us that only love can make us whole. We get a glimpse of that in the love of family, friends, and our spouses. Someday that wholeness - that perfect love of God will be truly known to us. In the meantime, we remain unbalanced and live our days working it out with the promise of that vow - that he is always with us.

Look for the Holy In the Common Place Well, it appears a theme is emerging for my posts as of late. Something like-I-have-been-severely-music-deprived-and-have-been-listening-to-my-favorite-Cd's-like-crazy-on-the-commute-and-have-somehow-reconnected-with-the-deeper-side-of-my-soul. Or in short, quotes from songs I love. The title of this post is from a Sara Groves song called "Just Showed Up for My Own Life" from "Add to the Beauty". Now the title of the song alone could be a post, but I'll just stick to this line stuck in the middle of the song. Sara talks about not just showing up and going through the motions but truly finding God in everything you do. To me that is best summed up by this simple line: by looking for the holy in the common place. (Yes, I am separating commonplace into two words, only because the lyrics posted on Sara's web site have it spelled out that way and it is a great twist on a familiar term.) It is not commonplace as in a saying, cliche, or reference to boring and undistiguishable, but truly a place that appears common, but has tiny hints of the creator's mark on them. Take some everyday scenes on the commute - snowbanks on every corner, darkness in the morning, the white glow of the moon. Pretty standard stuff - but look a little closer. The snowbanks sparkle more brilliantly than manufactured glitter. The darkness is hiding the deep blue of the daylight intensifying into the red, orange, and yellow of the sunrise. (Winter sunrises are the most crisp and colorful of all times of the year.) The moon ever changing - and as Kayla said every morning this week - "the moon is missing a piece, Mama. Where did it go?" (You tell me how to explain that to a 3 and 1/2 year old.) A wonder to behold - this changing of the moon - at any age. What is your common place? Maybe it is the glow of the computer screen, the sound of screaming children, the crawl of the rat race commute? Take a moment to pause and look around you...marvel at what the creator has given you...he wants you to look for these gifts...his holiness...his perfection. He loves you and is waiting for you to discover him in your common place. Start searching today.

Am I Singing? I can't help but ask myself this question. I get so sucked into the everyday...the drudgery, the repetition, the predictability of it all. Have I left room for the song...for the song of my soul? Those of you who are parents of young children know that time spent with your spouse or even alone to meditate is nearly impossible to realize. But as your children grow you find that little space for reflection. Maybe it is in the shower...in the car...the few minutes before you fall asleep. For me today, it was in the car. I was listening to one of my favorite bands of all time, U2 - "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb." I highly recommend anything that U2 has ever done, but especially this CD. Critics of this CD would likely mention the use of Christian themes and images throughout to sell a cheap, emotional experience (or worse, alienate the listener). But I think those critics missed the point. U2 is not borrowing Christian themes and images for fun or because they may promote some pseudo spiritual experience. They truly believe this stuff. There is no way a song like "Yahweh" was written without a knowledge of several portions of scripture and then a personal revelation of what that means to the writer. I am blown away by the depth of each track on this album and how I'm personally changed by the message of this song and several others on the CD. (Sidenote - who doesn't love the Edge's brilliant, unique guitar riffs?) Back to my point - to tell you about one of my favorite parts of the song - "take this soul, stranded in some skin and bones, take this soul and make it sing." I played the song again wondering, pondering, reflecting on this question - is my soul singing? I think that for a better part of the past year my soul was crying and laughing and agonizing and intensely analyzing everything and pondering every part of the emotional spectrum. But singing? Definitely not. But today I realized that this indescribable gift of joy is welling up in me. Joy at my big girl Kayla dancing around our living room...joy at Zachary vibrating because he is standing without help...joy at the knowing, mischievous twinkle in Jerry's eyes. This joy, a gift that only God can give...joy of knowing that his purposes continue to work and flow through me and that he continues to give me hope in all circumstances. Nothing else matters.

I Don't Do Resolutions... ...but I decided to resolve with my good friend / brother-in-law Kal (check out his Moblog and Kal in Space) to starting writing in the blog more often (detailed goals - a closely guarded secret). So for those of you who are still lurking around (thanks!) look forward to seeing new posts here soon.

Resisting Sleep So here I am, resisting sleep. It seems like my days are spent focusing on the kids so much and their needs that when they go to sleep, I get my second wind...wide eyed and awake until the wee hours wondering what the heck I'm doing and why the heck I'm doing it. I almost become euphoric thinking about it all. It usually starts when I'm getting Zachary ready for bed and nursing and rocking him to sleep. I start to think, I could find that missing (fill in item here) that I haven't seen in months. I'm convinced it is located (fill in location here). I know I can find it - never mind I've been looking for that same item in the same three locations for 3 months. I could write in my journal, update both kid's baby books, organize pictures, read the five books collecting dust in my night stand, read through the latest Ikea catalog, Pampered Chef catalog, all while randomly flipping through the latest Parents and Parenting magazine. (Seriously, why the heck don't those two magazines just merge? They copy each other's articles every month and you can barely tell them apart on the newsstand...different font doesn't count.) As soon as Zachary is in bed and I've snuggled with Kayla for a few minutes, I step into this Mommy's paradise...NIGHTTIME!!! I fully intend to do the things mentioned above, but I turn on my laptop to innocently check email and suddenly I'm shopping for makeup...I'm learning more about a perfume I just tried on at the store, I'm checking the tracking number on my latest Amazon purchase. An email with it's melodic ding pops up...doesn't matter if it is worth reading or not - I go and read...I remember someone I didn't email back earlier. I send the email...I read my favorite blogs...I lament over the extreme out of dateness of my own blog... I look at the time...12:04am...dishes still waiting, experiment ring in the toilet, clothes quietly crinkling to unmanageable lumps in their baskets, crumbs on the table... The baby monitor quietly coos...a tiny static crackle here and there.. If only morning would not come...or stealthily delay its appearance. Alas, all fun things must come to an end...the shower is calling this tired body.

Kaylic I'm sure those of you with small children eventually come to know their own native language. Ever since Kayla was old enough to utter sounds she has been making some interesting ones. When she was about 5 months old she started out by growling or heavy breathing as we liked to call it. For awhile she earned the name, "Darth Baby" because of the funny sounds she was making. Most babies coo or razz, Kayla would growl in delight. It was the funniest sound we had ever heard. When she was about 18 months old and starting to say words she would sometimes break into a babble that we dubbed "Kaylic." You could tell she was saying something very serious and she would look at us as if to say, "Why don't you understand these profound things that I'm saying?" Now that Kayla is older (3 years old) and consistently speaks in complete sentences, I thought it would be fun to update you on some of the new words she is saying: Han-gah-ber - hamburger. (I think this is a childhood classic and just about every kid I've known has said this. Love it!) Va-po-ra-tor - vaporizer. Ma-zah-gine - magazine. Ma-gah-log - cross between a magazine and a catalog. I was pretty proud of her for coming up with this one. She also likes to make up words with one of her pals at daycare. One of the words that seems to stick is this: Schwapped - to set down or throw down forcefully. This seems to be the meaning of the word, but she uses it in many different contexts. Such as, "I schwapped down on the couch to watch a movie." Hope you've enjoyed your short lesson in Kaylic.

The Update So I'm finally getting around to giving y'all the update - sorry for the lateness in responding! I am still getting this frequent blogging thing together. I've been back at work for a month now and things are very slowly coming together (hence my absence). The first day I dropped off Zachary at daycare I was in my car crying...trying to calm down enough to drive. When I finally slowed down, I turned on the radio and the first line of a familiar song played, "It's not the end of the world, it's just another day, standing on grace." I stopped for a moment and listened again and laughed. Oh great, God, you always know what I need. Truly this separation, this change, is not the end of the world, but just another day in a sea of changes. Since then there have been ups and downs. Downs - finding out that Zachary cried a lot and didn't take the bottle for several days at daycare. Ups - finally after three weeks having him happy and cooing and playing at daycare. Downs - not getting much sleep due to the new schedule and both kids waking up on and off. Ups - finding the sweet spot in the schedule and having them both finally sleeping better. I appreciate all of you for your nice comments in previous posts and asking how things were going. From now on I'll try to write more.

Less Than A Week Only a few more days until I go back to work. I'm trying to process it all - to be practical about the things that need to be done. Paperwork to fill out, things to buy, prayers to be said. But deep down it just hurts. There is no other way to say it. I look at my sweet boy blissfully sleeping and I realize that it is no easier this time than it was with the first...giving up his care to someone else for part of the day. It reminds me of the fact that he is already starting to grow up so to speak, to be separate from me. I guess the day he found his thumb and started sucking it was the beginning of that process. I'm reminded of when Kayla was his age. I was feeding her one day and then rocking her to sleep when it hit me like a ton of bricks. We are constantly preparing our children to be independent enough to one day leave us. What a heart wrenching thought! I'm overwhelmed with those thoughts today. Oh I know, our children will always need us, our love, and prayers, even as adults. (In fact, I'm surprised and yet strangely comforted by how much Kayla, at almost three still wants snuggles and hugs. She may look like a big girl, but she is still a baby inside.) But the truth is that one day they will be on their own. So for the next few days I'll hold my baby boy tight and delight in his smiling face, the smell of his little head, hold onto his tight little fists, and rest in the peaceful quiet of him nursing. Hoping as he grows that he chooses me to hug and kiss him and comfort him no matter how old he is.

Poetry Jam Megan over at Sorta Crunchy is celebrating the last day of National Poetry Month and I though I would join in the fun. Be sure to check out her favorite poem by clicking here. Here are some of my own poems written over the last few years. I'm not great with naming these things, but have tried to name them something. Coffee Shop Confessions As I sit in my corner vantage point in Waterstreet I see caricatures of reality A snowflake etched in glass A love letter in a handkerchief A copper sun on the ceiling A poet in the corner It quiets as they all leave Serenity pours out of the speakers What seen before me is reality? Everyday Chaos Incessant chatter, word upon word My participation wanes Until I become a catatonic observer Dusk Clearing black sky Clouds floating away The Cheshire cat moon smiling Twinkling light in the distance The crisp night ahead of us To Write Books, books, and more books! How I long to read them all Lose myself in the pages Experience what I don't in life Be happy that I don't have that life! Read about great truths for eternal knowledge Read silliness and laugh Look at pictures and wonder My desire to drink it all in, all the time! To become part of the book, whether truth or fiction But to write a book - So much harder to do But necessary to understand and reflect on life Difficult to express the mundane in the pages To be unleashed, to write at will! Whether it be serious, scholarly or just plain trite. What good is it? What purpose is served? My random thoughts fill this space This page that may hold the complexities of my mind Or the experience of existence. Where am I going? I started out asking this question And know nothing more here. Purple pen gliding over the pages As I listen to the chatter in the cafe Do they know how loud they are? Mixing into a stream of confusion Some voices standing out in random patterns "The trees are pretty," says the father to the daughter "I stopped by and saw it," the loud man on the couch Kitchen topics with my love We are here together We share our thoughts - Our perspective - Our experience My thoughts blend with the din - Rising and falling - Until silent My pen is stopping I've read this randomness and strangely I am happy

I Had Forgotten I had forgotten the excitement of seeing the first robin of spring... I had forgotten the sweet, heavy scent of rain coming in the distance... I had forgotten the waxy tug on my fingers of the first green leaves pushing through the ground... I had forgotten the wonder of seeing a duck just a few feet away... I had forgotten the cool, damp feeling of grass between my toes... I had forgotten the spine tingling excitement of hiding during hide-n-seek... I had forgotten, my sweet girl, until I met you.

When I Look at Your Face... ...little son, I see big, deep, blue eyes staring back at me in pure innocence and unconditional love. I see your button nose and your toothless, double-dimpled grin and I overflow. You are the sweet boy I never knew I could love. ...sweet girl, I see a the glimmer of my BeBa in your big girl eyes and I'm overcome. Blonde hair and sweet cheeks like your Mama, so stubborn like your Mama. Trying so hard to be the big sister, but longing to still be her Mama and Dada's baby. You are my pure joy. ...my perfect husband, I see icy blue eyes overflowing with patience and a supernatural calm. We are growing old together - can you feel it? Look how far we have come. My life is infinitely and forever changed - bigger, better, and yet grounded in ways that I've never comprehended. I see your smile, the twinkle in your eye and I know that there is so much yet to know. "To love another person is to see the face of God." - Les Miserables

The Sweet Sound of Chaos Yes, you read the title correctly. I've never been so happy to hear screaming and laughing and the pounding of running feet! After five days of being sick, Kayla is better. She is smiling and laughing and she asked me to chase her around the living room. Normally that whole chasing thing is pretty short lived for me, but I heartily chased her around for as long as we could handle it! Breathlessly she declared, "I feel much better!" Indeed! I never thought I would be looking forward to the week coming up that her and I would spend together with the baby. The sick Kayla was much harder to handle then the well Kayla. I'm sure well Kayla and I will have a great time. Note: I didn't publish this post right away and am happy to report that our week together was great. We had our ups and downs, but overall it was a good. Thanks to everyone that was praying for us. In a way, I'm sort of lonely today without Kayla's sweet face around. Just me and the little boy today.

If Only There Were Two of Me... I'm sure we have all had that thought - wishing we had a clone or an extra set of hands. I'm especially feeling that pain today - figuring out how to juggle two kids - an infant (by definition - needy) and a little under the weather toddler (temporarily needy). It seems that I'm constantly having to choose, whose needs get met first. Unfortunately, my infant son cries more loudly and is harder to reason with and he usually wins the battle. I'm also struggling with how to work with Kayla's recently behavior issues (presumably more apparent or new due to baby Zachary's recent appearance on the scene). A few days ago, I was reading Corey's post over at Living and Loving Every Minute of It (click here to check it out - a little long, but worth it) and I believe she really hit the nail on the head. When our own needs are not met we are impatient and cranky and stray from our core parenting style and frankly from our own personalities in general. It seems like that is the story of my life lately. I'm thankful to Corey for her timely post and helping me get back on track. I guess in the end I keep coming back to this simple truth. God has put me in this situation and he will see me through. I Corinthians 10:13 says "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." How often I am tempted to lash out, to yell, to be impatient, to do what I shouldn't do in this new, two child parenting game. I have to remember that I am weak and nothing without God's help. I often think about how blessed I am to be a mother (twice now!) and I have to constantly focus on God's strength and not my own. With this focus, I can do anything!

Sweet Girl As those of you know who have had children, the aftermath or "post partum period" can be a roller coaster of emotions. At times I'm happier than I can imagine and other times the littlest thing can make me cry. (Case in point, I am not a country music fan, but there is a country song on the Gospel Music Channel that had me in tears one day.) One morning before Jerry and Kayla left for the day I was crying and Kayla came up to me with the receiving blanket she uses for her doll and said, "Mommy, don't cry, don't be sad" and she wiped my tears away with her blanket. Of course, this made me cry harder. How can a 2 1/2 year old know what her Momma needed so much? I'm so blessed to have such a sweet girl. She adores her little brother and takes every opportunity to kiss him, touch him, and hold him when she can. It will be great when he can respond more to her. Thinking about this reminds me again of how blessed I am.

Devotion I had a hard time naming this post only because the word devotion seems a bit too cheesy for me, but I can't describe it any other way. I marvel at Jerry's love for me and how he so often anticipates what I need to hear or what needs to be done. It is as if we have found out how to be in sync - in a perfectly, devoted way. Right before we left the hospital with Zachary, we were enjoying a quiet time when he was sleeping. Jerry looked at me and he said, "you should be proud." I knew exactly what he meant. All those months of praying and asking God to give me a natural birth, the work of actually experiencing it and all that pushing! I starting crying. How I needed someone to say that to me, how I longed to shout from the rooftops, "I DID IT!!" But I knew that was not what I was supposed to do. I've tried so hard to be humble and thankful that God would choose me to be a mother again and I knew that was what I should focus on. But to have those words said out loud for me - what a wonderful gift. So I want to be proud, but I won't. Instead, I'm thankful that a faithful, gracious God heard my cry for help and blessed me with the desire of my heart.

Five Weeks and Counting...and Growing! Five weeks - little Zachary is 5 weeks old today. As some friends predicted, he arrived just after the Superbowl - Monday February 4 at 2:44 am. My water broke at 4pm on Sunday February 3rd and I just laughed. For some reason, this whole pregnancy I had a feeling my water would break and I was in a great mood thinking about how in 24 hours or less, Zachary would be in my arms. I was nervous when I called the midwife and excited that she said as long as labor started on it's own in the next 6 hours I was free to stay home. The contractions felt like low abdominal menstrual cramps and I actually had to ask myself at first, "was that a contraction?" They became regular about 6:30pm and were about 5-7 minutes apart when we left for the hospital about 9:30pm. When we got to the hospital they asked me if I wanted a jacuzzi room - I was excited thinking how comfortable that would be. (Turns out I never used it - more on that later.) They told me I was dilated 6 and 90% effaced. I was elated and happy that I was able to be home through so much of the first part of labor. The contractions were intense, but I prayed through each one and held onto Jerry. I found labor to be a very inward, introspective experience. I closed my eyes through every contraction reminding myself that God created my body to do this work and I should not resist or tense up. When I resisted a contraction they hurt more and seemed unbearable. Unfortunately because I had a c-section last time, they made me wear a fetal monitor at all times. It made it hard to move around although they could hook me up to a wireless unit, they kept having to change the position of the monitor to make sure they could still capture his heartbeat. I tried to walk, but felt best when I was lying on my side, but I knew that this slowed things down. I was unbearably hot - that was one of the most surprising things about the whole experience. (No interest in a hot, jacuzzi tub!) Even though it was freezing cold outside, they turned the heat off completely in my room. I can't imagine if it had been on. By about 1:45, the feelings were incredibly intense, I felt the urge to bear down, but didn't recognize at the time what that feeling was. I just remember sitting on the toilet thinking that my pelvis was coming apart - that it was at the widest position it could be. I was right - I was fully dilated and 100% effaced. I remember the midwife saying to me, "It's time to push this baby out!" I remember saying in a fog, "Really, it is?" I kept thinking - the hard part is over, right? WRONG! I never realized how hard it would be to push out a baby - I just had no idea. I pushed for nearly and hour and I just remember thinking after each push - he has to be out soon right? I was so tired and the fact that I had not slept in almost 24 hours was taking its toll. Near the end they lost Zachary's heartbeat and could not get it on a monitor on his head. That was ironic to me because I could feel him kicking me right at that moment. In the chaos I don't remember if I said anything about it out loud. The midwife said to me, "If we do not get this baby out soon, I will have to cut you." That was enough motivation for me and on the next push, his head came out partially and then the next push he came completely out. I'll never forget that immense feeling of relief and the strange sensation of the umbilical cord still attached to my body. In seconds he was on my chest and I remember saying over and over, "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness." He was so big - 9lbs 6oz. They said I could breastfeed him, but I couldn't sit up, so that was challenging, but he sucked for about 10-15 minutes and then they wisked him away over to a bassinet to be weighed and other things. I'm still overwhelmed now 5 weeks later thinking of the experience. I thank God that he gave me the perfect birth - no drugs, a short labor, a beautiful, healthy boy. I just kept looking at him when we were in our room a few hours after he was born and just marveling at how beautiful he was. We were surprised to find that he has two dimples. There is no one else in either my family or Jerry's family that does. I remember during those quiet days in the hospital looking at him and thinking "God must have delighted in making you." Five weeks later I look at him in his swing making growling and cooing noises as he likes to do and being amazed at how big he is already - almost 13 pounds.

It Won't Be Long Now I'm counting the days until little Zachary John makes his appearance. Everything is going well. The midwives think that he is much smaller than Kayla was and he is head down and ready to go. Everyday seems slow when waiting for something this big to happen. I hate that I just used such a simple word as "big" to describe giving birth and the experience of raising another child. In truth the magnitude of it all is alluding me at the moment. I'm just trying to take one day at a time. Everything is ready - at least physically - his room, clothes, even diapers and wipes all loaded up into the changing table. My bag and his are packed. Yet everyday I keep wondering, am I ready? Mentally ready? I'm trying to stay positive, to take the memory of the chaos of those first few weeks with Kayla in perspective. To remember that I was new to everything and at least this time there are only some aspects that are completely new. Like the fact that he is a completely different person - with a different personality and habits among many other things of course. I'm not sure what I had to say in this post that is very profound, but more just me trying to grasp the stillness and quiet before this joyous change. It reminds me more than ever that I have to trust God in all things. He has given me the gift of this little boy. Zachary John means "remembered by a gracious God." Because he has remembered me, I know that he will be with me through this.

Don't Let it Get Away I've been subconsciously avoiding this topic for awhile because it means that I have to admit something to myself - that Kayla is growing up and time is flying forward at light speed. I've been sort of watching it all happen out of the corner of my eye in denial as if somehow avoiding this topic will prevent that truth from occurring. But it is happening. In some ways I don't even recognize my baby. She talks is complete sentences now and some of the things we talk about are even surprising to me. With the new baby on the way it reminds me that in some ways she will be forced to grow up a little bit more. This makes me sad, but in the same way I know it will be good for her. She pats my belly and says hi to "baby brudder" just about everyday. Yesterday she asked if baby brudder could come out and play dinosaurs with her. Today she said "he really wants out, right now!" When we told her that she would teach him how to play she just smiled and growled and laughed like she does in her sweet, little excited way. But tonight as I laid down with her as she was falling asleep, all I could see was my baby girl in the half light. Her sweet cherub face filling my view, her little thumb in her mouth, her eyelashes fluttering, fighting the sleepiness. I pulled her close and kissed her. I wished the moment would last forever. In some ways I guess it will - she will always be my baby girl no matter what happens and no matter how old she is.

The Distraction of Electricity Over this past weekend we spent 40 hours without electricity. It started Friday night about 7pm when a storm passed through and knocked out the power. (Thankfully we still had hot water.) This is very unusual for our area and we were surprised to find that our neighbors across the street all had power. We found out later that only about 35-40 houses in our neighborhood were out. As we sat there in the dark that night, under the faint glow of the street light across the street, I pondered how much we rely on electricity not just for the normal day to day operations such as the hair drying, dish washing, and microwaving, but for the distractions of everyday life. Jerry and I were forced to just sit there, literally, and talk in the romantic candle light. We talked about everything we could think of and enjoyed the candles that had been collecting dust for months. The candles in our fireplace had only been lit once since we put them in this spring - what a travesty! I pulled out every new, scented candle I've been forgetting to try and put them out. It was so quiet...no hum of some distant appliance or even the quiet static of the baby monitor. Most importantly, no computer, Internet or *gasp* BLOG to distract us from what we should really be doing - spending time together. The next morning, the transformer down the street was repaired and we went back to life as normal - washing clothes, sending emails, and blow drying hair. But the story doesn't end here, a little more than 24 hours later, we hear a shocking "ka-pow!" and the power went out again. In some ways I was annoyed, I really wanted to crosstich that night and there is just no way to do that in the dark, even with a great flashlight! In other ways, it was a relief. There was no way I could catch up on some of my work projects or get sucked into the Internet that night. We sat outside watching the stars and gazing at the moon rising. It was cool outside and quiet - we sipped our coffee and talked softly. For once I was thankful for the lack of distractions...for being forced to do nothing but relax. It was as if God was trying to tell us in an indisputable way to just put the difficult week behind us and be still. Well, thanks Big Guy - we needed that!

The Blossoming Belly Well, for those of you who don't know, Baby Powell v2.0 is on the way. This pregnancy has been very odd or maybe not odd in the "statistical significance" sense, but odd in the "not like the other one" sense. We tried for several months to get pregnant and after watching just about every other female family member get pregnant before me, we were finally blessed with the digital readout at the crack of dawn (6:30am 5/31) of "Pregnant." I was happy and excited but so bleary eyed that the tears ran down my cheeks on the outer rim of my eyes instead of the inner rim near my nose. Weird? Odd? Yeah, it was. Because we were on vacation, we promptly went back to sleep until Kayla woke up. The weeks following involved exponential weight gain (12 lbs in 6 weeks - thanks wacky thyroid!), nausea in the evening - what's that talk about "morning" sickness? Don't know about that... And being smacked on the head with a two by four fatigue at random times of day. For a couple of weeks, Jerry just tucked me in at about 9pm. Suddenly at 10 weeks - I came back to life! I could stay awake in the evenings! I tossed out my saltines that I had permanently attached to my person! I made it through the late afternoon without a snack! Ahhhhh...but then the belly popped out. And with a vengeance it went forth in its glorious round girth. There should be some law against "popping" before week 13. In one week, normal clothes became 2-3 inches too small. Maternity clothes from my previous pregnancy were all for the wrong season, so only a few worked at this stage. But all was not lost - $100 later - two pairs of pants and three shirts joined my life and brought me over to chic maternity land. Who knew that I looked so good in mint green? Or that the inventor of the "miracle pant" would now become a beneficiary in my will? Could sleek khaki pants and breast-hugging shirts somehow make me a better person? I guess that all remains to be seen. On July 11 we went in for my first midwife appointment. After all the talk about twins, she thought it best to do an early ultrasound verification. One little baby was hanging around in there - its little heartbeat flickering. All of a sudden - it started jumping around - thrashing its little arms and legs as if it knew it was on camera and as if to say, "Hi Mom and Dad - I'm doing good in here!!!" Our midwife laughed in surprise and said, "that is so unusual to see the baby moving this early." Well, as we have seen with Kayla, we don't have ordinary babies (and I mean this in the best possible way of course). Of course our baby would move around like mad at 9 1/2 weeks! Two weeks later (11 weeks or so), I felt that flutter feeling (Moms, you know what I'm talking about). Now with "normal" pregnancies this usually happens around 16-18 weeks. I stood there thinking to myself, "Naaaahhhhh, this is pretty early." It's as if this baby heard my thoughts and decided to do it...hmmm...seven more times! I know without a doubt that was the baby moving. I don't care what anyone else says. My midwife confirmed today that without the placenta in front as it was with Kayla, it is pretty likely that I'm more sensitive to movement and I did feel this little one moving. At my appointment today we very easily heard the baby's heartbeat - slower than Kayla's, but very strong as if to say, "I'm strong and healthy, Mom and Dad." I'm pretty convinced that like Kayla, this baby is going to have a story to tell when we meet him or her for the first time. (Kayla's was a pretty intense story as she screamed bloody murder for 45 minutes straight right after she was born. No little baby wah, wah for her!) It's been very different than last time, but so calm and peaceful. It is odd, but I'm looking forward to giving birth. Maybe I am slightly naive as I did not even have one contraction with Kayla (c-section due to her size - 10lbs 3oz), but I have a sense of rightness with this whole process. As for now, the belly continues to grow. I rub it and dance often - just to make Kayla and Jerry laugh. Ironically, even though this blossoming is so important, so unique and so well, fun this time, I have not taken one picture of it in its spherical glory. I guess it's off to select the appropriate photo shoot look and start clicking away.

Sweet, Sweet Summer... Well, here we are...it's official...the calendar may not say the first day of summer, but it might as well be. Summer unofficially started weeks ago...and isn't glorious! Maybe you don't agree and well, I wouldn't blame you. The shocking transition from 55 degrees to 85 isn't for the faint of heart and can make some of us even irritated with the idea of a new season. I'm with you...I get it...but I'm here to talk about the good stuff. The stuff that summer dreams are made of. There is nothing like gazing at the greenest, most perfectly trimmed patch of grass and just imaging yourself lying on it, petting it. Ohhhh...this love of freshly cut grass has exhibited itself in me very strangely. I have visions of sleeping on it...I think that is why I took up golf. I can't help but love the perfectly manicured greens. When people aren't looking I stroke that grass as if it were my small, furry pet. How can't you love that crisp smelling field of perfection? And the flowers - is there anything like the sight of orange daylillies (and they are everywhere around here these days) smiling in the breeze - swaying so gently as if singing a lullabye. And the sky so blue you can't imagine that it could be real - contrasting with the crisp white clouds floating by. All of this enticing beauty - beckoning me to be a part of it...stirring a longing in me so pure and so exciting. I long to see a lake - not any lake, but Lake Michigan - part lake, part ocean. Big enough that I can't imagine its end, small enough to believe that it can be embraced. I imagine looking out...hearing the waves crash, the seagulls call, the sandpipers flit way with their tiny little feet. Looking out into the endless blue reminds me that this is all a gift from a Creator that longs to know us so intensely that he would use any noble means possible to get our attention. Which brings me to a breathtaking watercolor sunset. Always unique, always quiet, and always gently asking, "Meet me here again tomorrow?" How kind, how thoughtful, how delightfully loving He is. So do yourself a favor tonight, tomorrow or the next day...go outside - maybe at dusk - check out the canvas near you. Now I know in my postage stamp of suburbia I can't really see the full sunset, but I can see the pink and purple streaks reflecting in the sky and the lightening bugs starting to flicker here and there. Get out there...be quiet, be still, and know that He is God.